CHAPTER XI.
Plautia walked homeward with a sweeping haughty step, leaving her head andface exposed to the dim rays of the moon as if contemptuously careless ofrisk. When she reached the middle of the dusky orchard which flanked thedwelling of Tucca, she stopped short, with her head cast down, as ifstruck by a sudden thought. It may have been a cruelly acute flash ofreflection piercing her pain-drowsied mind with spasmodic rigour, for, thenext moment she sank on her knees with a smothered groan, and thence on toher face, with her arms outstretched and her hand clutching the turf.Here, in the solitude and silence of the night, the most dread hour forunhappy thoughts, she lay prone and helpless in the very lap of mentaltorture. Every external condition was absent which, in the light of day,might have lent distraction and relief. Her face, buried in the mossyturf, was dry-eyed; nor could the stinging pangs of wounded pride arouse amomentary diversion from the horrible oppression and stupor of despair bya fit of frenzied rage, to which her inflammable nature was at all timesprone.
The time flew on. The moon sank nearer and nearer to the horizon, and wassuddenly swallowed up in a craggy mass of cloud, rising and spreadingupward from the western sea. It moved on swiftly and massively. Myriadafter myriad of bright stars disappeared behind the hurrying edge of itspitchy mantle rolling onward, in a serrated line, from north to south.Before was the fast narrowing expanse of glittering radiance; behind theunfathomable blackness of Erebus.
Fitful, but louder murmurs swept up from the sea in place of the gentleuniform breathing of the early night, and the darkling waters shook with abrisker frolic of dancing frothy combs, and dull shimmering streaks andflashes of phosphorescent light, as if exultingly waking to the dimwatchword of a twinkling storm spirit.
Still Plautia remained motionless, as if bereft of life. The gatheringgloom of the outer air had thickened, amid the grove, into inky blacknessimpenetrable to the eye. The tree stems and boles were entirelyobliterated, as well as the shape of the woman lying prostrate amid them,steeped in oblivious anguish. A sharp short gust of wind swayed theinvisible branches above, and dashed noisily amongst their leaves; afterwhich a lull, and a dreamy rustling, as in the calm depth of a summernight. Then came the fierce rush of a blast roaring amongst the branchesand bending them over as with the flattening pressure of the hand of aTitan, whilst a whizzing tempest of rain and hail swept along in company,and made its shrill rattling on the leaves heard amidst the bluster. Itmade its way freely through, and fell, with its icy coldness, on to thebare head of her beneath. It roused her. She lifted her head; and raisingherself slowly, so as to lean upon her hands, she gazed stupidly into theStygian blackness which enveloped her. The roar of the storm filled herears, whereas her last remembrance was of the calm stars and moonlight.Her mind re-asserted itself, and recovered from the bonds of its torture-bed for the present, as from a dread nightmare.
Shivering, she raised her chilled limbs from the ground, and, pulling hercloak around her head, she stood, amid the roar and dashing of theelements, striving to pierce the darkness and determine in which directionto grope her way from the grove. Failing in this she stooped to feel forthe narrow footpath worn in the short grass. She was successful, and,assuming that the storm proceeded from the open sea, and consequently moreor less from the direction of Tucca's cottage, she commenced the tardy,troublesome, but necessitous process of following up the path, in the faceof the wind, by the assiduous touch of her fingers, in a stooping andsometimes creeping posture.
When she had gone a few yards in this toilsome manner she caught sight ofa glimmering light. It disappeared, and she called at the top of hervoice, but the furious roaring of the wind amid the trees rendered hertones inaudible to herself. The light reappeared much closer, and as shesaw it coming to meet her she stopped. It proved to be carried by theancient husbandman himself, attended by her faithful slave, a woman ofmiddle age. Tucca held the lantern as much under the shelter of hissackcloth storm-cloak as was possible, in order to save its feeble flamefrom the wind; and as it barely gave light to their feet, and their senseswere pre-occupied with the bluster of the elements, they failed toperceive the form of Plautia standing motionless in the path awaitingthem. Speaking being useless, the latter stayed their steps by laying herhand on Tucca's shoulder, so much to that individual's suddenconsternation that he very nearly dropped the lantern. Turning thestruggling candle-rays up to her pale, stern face, he heaved a sigh ofgratification, and, scarcely waiting for her sign to return homeward, hedoubled on his track with alacrity, being too well satisfied already withhis experience of the night. To cover the short distance to the house wasa labour of no small difficulty in the teeth of the tempest. The light wasextinguished at once, but that was of no consequence to the old man, whoknew as well by night as day every inch of the homestead, where he hadpassed the whole of his lengthy days. Plautia held to his shoulder, andher cloak was gripped by her slave, and, in this manner, they gained thecottage, with their garments dripping and their faces smarting with thewind, rain, and hail. As soon as her voice could be heard, Plautia'sattendant began volubly to testify to her delight at the success of herexpedition, in which she had almost compelled the grumbling Tucca to join;but Plautia curtly checked her and called for some wine, which she drankcopiously. Tasting a mouthful of food she then retired to her room,followed by her faithful retainer, who would have given her chance offreedom to have had her burning curiosity satisfied as to the errand ofher mistress that night. But the pale, pre-occupied, stern face of thelady, together with an ominous, fretful impatience of manner, daunted her,so she proceeded in silence with her duties of disrobing and preparing forrest.
Plautia lay and tossed the night through, till nearly dawn, in sleeplesswretchedness. The shrieking of the storm around the creaking, shudderingcottage seemed a fitting accompaniment to the incessant gnawing of herbitter disappointment, and it was long ere sheer exhaustion brought anuneasy slumber to her relief.
A loud knocking at the outer door of the house awoke her. She couldscarcely realise that her eyes had closed at all, and sat up to listen.The narrow little window, near the ceiling, was faintly luminous with thestruggling light of very early day, and, though the wind was still high,it had palpably moderated. She could hear the loud, regular snore of Tuccawithin, as yet undisturbed by the early caller, whoever it might be; andit was not until the pounding of the door had been repeated thrice, thatthe slumberer's voice was heard demanding the name and business of thevisitor. Plautia's suspicions were keenly excited, and she rose from herpallet and placed her ear to the crevice of the door.
'Who is it, and what do you want at this time?' asked Tucca.
'Open the confounded door and see!' was shouted in reply.
'Is it you, noble Zeno?'
'It is, noble Tucca.'
The bar of the door was undone, and Tucca said, 'I thought it was yourvoice, good Zeno--come in, but don't speak so loud lest you waken----'
Plautia could hear no more, but she easily supplied the remainder of thespeech.
'It is just what I came to do,' returned the other; 'I am grieved to do itat such an unseasonable hour, on such an unseasonable morning, as well formy own sake as hers, but I have no option. Go, knock her up, and tell herwho waits to speak with her. While you are doing that I will keep the coldout with a drink of your best, Tucca.'
Plautia heard the old man remove the trap-door, which covered the stepsdescending to his cellar, and upon his return he came and tapped at herdoor.
'Well!' she asked.
'So please you, noble lady, I am loth to disturb you, but I am bidden toit by Zeno, Caesar's steward, who has come to have speech with you, andwaits even now.'
These words caused her an involuntary thrill. Martialis was right, and shefelt that she had been betrayed. Her suspicions were confined to a verynarrow range, and the angry flash of her eyes, and clenching of her handupon her bosom, were eloquent indications which boded ill for Tigellinus.Her native dauntlessness impelled her
instinctively to adopt a bold,unshrinking policy. A woman of weaker nature would probably have beentossed and whirled hither and thither amid the eddies of shufflingtimidity, and finally stranded on the doomed reef of hystericalstubbornness; but Plautia's high spirit rose with danger. The recklessnessof unhappiness and despairing thoughts, moreover, is a stimulant which isapt to outrun calm fearlessness into temerity and bravado.
'Tell Zeno, Caesar's steward, to come again at a more fitting time ofday,' she said loudly and peremptorily.
The Greek heard, and, approaching the door of her apartment, answered forhimself in the softest and most persuasive of his tones.
'I have to crave your pardon, most gracious lady, for the untimelyinterruption to your sweet slumbers. But, alas! I have no option but toobey my instructions, which were to have a few words with you on behalf ofCaesar.'
'I will come.'
She quickly enveloped herself in a loose mantle and stepped forth into themain apartment, where Tucca had lighted an oil lamp to assist the gray,uncertain light of dawn. The old man himself was down on his knees,vigorously blowing at a fire he had placed in a brazier on the hearth,whilst his wife was invisible in the depths of the sleeping box or crib,opening from the other end of the room.
Zeno had withdrawn more into the centre, and saluted the appearance ofPlautia with an obeisance of extreme deference. It partook of the profoundhumility offered to an oriental potentate, and had the dexterous Greeksearched the world through he could not have found a more perfectincarnation of haughtiness than in the youthful beauty before him, whotrod the earthen floor of the hovel in her deshabille, as if she were aSemiramis clad in splendour and stepping to her throne of state.
She regarded him for a few moments with a gaze such as a sovereign mighthave fastened upon a trembling wretch waiting for judgment. Zeno, havingrecovered from his deep inclination, stood with his head slightly bent andhis eyes cast down to the floor with an expression of respectfulattention. He was of that race so notorious in the Imperial city for itsmatchless facility and address in framing its face for all occasions; andit cost him no more effort to play the lowly vassal to the imperiousnessconfronting him, than it did to assume the petty tyrant among thefrightened scullions of his household. His dissimulation, at the sametime, did not interfere with the indulgence of an amount of personalvanity before the eyes of a lovely woman. He posed his slender figure inits most graceful attitude, and turned his face in the best light for thedisplay of its symmetrical beauty and soft complexion.
'You are sent by Caesar to me?' began Plautia.
'I am, gracious lady; I am the steward of his household,' replied Zeno, inhis softest voice.
'And a Greek?'
Zeno bowed.
'Of Athens,' said he.
'You must be mistaken in coming here to me.'
'I was bidden to come to Tucca's cottage and address myself to the noblePlautia, newly come from Rome,' was the bland response.
'Most strange! How could Caesar know my name and my presence here?'
'I know not, lady, nor seek to know.'
'I am a stranger to Tiberius in every way. There is no more about me andmy business now, than there has ever been to concern him. What can he wantwith me?'
'What is in Caesar's heart Caesar's servants dare not seek to know. Tohear is to obey. But the ruler of the world has a heart for every one ofhis subjects; why then should Plautia, one of the most beautiful, besurprised at receiving the Imperial notice?'
Plautia smiled in lofty scorn, but the gravity of Zeno's face was unmoved.
'Say, then, what you have to say without further question,' said she.
'My master's own lips bade me say that, having heard of your arrival, itwas neither to his credit nor to his own satisfaction that so lovely andaccomplished a visitor to the island of Capreae should be allowed toremain lodged in the hut of a husbandman,' said Zeno, sweeping his handand eyes round with an expression of disgust and contempt; 'he thereforedespatched me, at the earliest, with his greeting, and instructions toconvey you to the villa Jovis, where you may command such attention asbefits your position, until you think fit to bring your visit to Capreaeto a close. May it please you, therefore, to attire yourself, thatCaesar's bidding may be fulfilled as quickly as possible, and that yourgracious self may be rid of this vile place. The morning is stormy, butthe rain has ceased, and a covered litter waits outside, in which theslaves will bear you under the shelter of the palace roof in but a fewminutes.'
'You may return at once to the palace, and tell Tiberius that I thank himfor the proffer of his hospitality,' said Plautia, in the same calm, loftymanner; 'but my stay in Capreae is so short that this cottage will amplysuffice for my accommodation for the remainder of the time. I am no lessgrateful to him, however.'
The steward's face assumed an expression of deeper gravity than ever--ofpalpable sorrow indeed. His fingers restlessly played with the hem of hiscloak during a few moments of silent hesitation, and his eyes moveduneasily from one object to another, until at last they rested, with anappealing look, upon the face of Plautia herself.
'To do as you tell me,' he said,--'to return to the palace, leaving youhere, would prove my instant disgrace and ruin.'
'What have I to do with that? I sought not to have anything to do with youor your master.'
'I crave your pardon for speaking of my unworthy self,' said Zeno humbly,in a lower tone. 'It is indeed of little consequence what happens to me;but if Plautia will understand me, what I sought to impress upon her was,what she probably fully comprehends already, that Caesar's word must befulfilled at the cost of anything and everything if need be. I dare notreturn without you.'
'Which means that my desires were never meant to be consulted--that yourorders were to take me, willingly or unwillingly,' said Plautiadisdainfully. 'Why did you not deliver your mandate at once, without allthis false mockery of deference?'
'Alas, no, by your leave, gracious Plautia, neither mandate nor mockery!'cried the Greek, who seemed struck with horror at the idea. 'I shoulddeserve to die like a dog if my clumsy tongue had caused you to harboursuch a thing in your mind. I should be flung from the cliffs had I dared.Ah no, therefore, I beseech you in mercy to your servant, dismiss thosefatal words. Deference and homage are the natural prerogatives of Plautia;and is it possible, that a nameless slave could make a mockery of whatwill flow sincerely from Caesar himself? No, it cannot be!'
'Psaw!' uttered Plautia, impatiently turning from the histrionicabjuration of the steward. 'Whom have you with you?'
She swept to the door, and, unlatching it, looked out upon the dismallandscape. A raw, cold wind dashed in her face; the trees tossed andwaved, and the foam-streaked sea and sky seemed to mingle in a cheerless,dismal hue of gray. Under the lee of the cottage was a covered litter setdown, whilst a dozen or more slaves were huddled close by, making the mostof their rough woollen cloaks and the shelter of the friendly wall.
The half-closed eyes of the Greek followed her, and his lips curved insilent laughter. As she stepped back he sprang to close the door for her.
'A few slaves only,' he said apologetically.
'I expected to see a gang of Pretorians with swords and chains,' shereplied, with as much sarcasm as her hauteur would admit.
Zeno suffered his humility to make bold with a smile, which disclosed hiswhite teeth.
'Ah no!' he softly said, ignoring the biting allusion to swords andchains; 'I and my slaves had the better fortune. Centurion Martialis andhis Pretorians would have been as rejoiced as I am to have had the honourof escorting you, but they have privileges enough, without robbing yourhumble slave of a grateful task; they are even now hard at work with theirexercises, as is their custom, within the walls of the villa Jovis.'
'It is enough that I am to go with you, most worthy steward,' returned shecoldly. 'You have more than sufficient force with you to compel me, aswell as to guard me, if need be.'
Her mention of the Pretorians suggested to the Greek the artfulintro
duction of the name of Martialis, and he raised his eyes to her facewith an unconcerned glance to try and discover some effect of his words.But he was totally disappointed, and she retired at once into her ownapartment.
During the colloquy the ancient Tucca had contrived to allow the fire toretain his attention, blowing a few puffs now and then to excite thesluggish flames, and piling here and there an ember, being to allappearances absorbed in the task. As the door closed upon the Roman beautyhe turned up his shrivelled, leathery countenance toward the Greek with aleer, which seemed to extinguish his eyes in the dirt-engrained wrinklesof his face.
'Worshipful Zeno!' he chuckled, rising from his knees and lifting hisfilthy hands in exceeding admiration; 'worshipful Zeno!'
'It is all fair and smooth now, old wine-presser,' returned Zeno in aguarded voice, giving him a playful buffet on the shoulder in high goodhumour. 'What a high and mighty goddess it is! Why, the granddaughter ofold Tiberius up yonder is a mere cottage girl to this! But the villa is arare mill for such! She leaves Capreae soon--ha, ha!'
'And you know how I helped you?' rejoined Tucca.
'Truly!' replied the other, and he went to the door and signed to hisslaves.
Returning, he finished his wine, and then paced thoughtfully up and downthe floor till the object of his care should make her appearance. In a fewminutes she entered, attired for her short journey and followed by herfemale slave.
'I am ready,' she said briefly, and Zeno opened the door.
The litter was set down opposite, and his hand drew back one curtain,whilst a slave, on bended knee, drew back the other.
As she set her foot inside a whining voice bade her 'A fair journey.'
'Ah, I forgot!' said Plautia, turning back to the cringing Tucca in thedoorway; 'here is payment for my lodging.'
'By your leave, gracious Plautia, not a sesterce!' interposed the vigilantZeno; 'he shall receive his due.'
'Yes, from me--Caesar may add what he please!' rejoined she haughtily.'Stand back--I would speak with him!'
They retired a few steps at her bidding, and she held out a gold cointoward the old man.
'Here--this for your trouble!'
He clutched the shining piece in his filthy, horned fingers with a graspof surprise and delight, and thereupon she added in a lower tone,
'You have betrayed me, wretch!'
'I--most bounteous lady?' he exclaimed, starting. 'Not a word--not awhisper, or may the gods strike me dead at your feet!'
His wavering glance wandered from her stern, penetrating eyes to the formof Zeno, who stood apart with folded arms and frowning gaze fixed uponhim.
'No--no! May the gods strike me dead at your feet!' he repeated.
'Enough--I shall know--and beware!'
She turned away from him feebly iterating, and without more delay enteredthe litter and reclined therein. The slaves lifted her up and proceeded ontheir way, at a pace, which was somewhat retarded by the company of herfaithful attendant, who walked by her side, and without whom she refusedto move one yard, in spite of all Zeno's efforts to the contrary.
The bleak morning wore on, but was as yet young when Afer, cloaked andhooded against the raw, blustering weather, knocked at the door of Tucca'sdwelling, and demanded to see Plautia. When the grimy, greasy wine-growerexplained her departure to him, with much obsequious cringing, the knightwas so incredulous that he stalked into the hovel to examine for himself.Finding the state of the case to be as related, he desired to be informedwhither the lady had gone.
'I did not inquire--not I,' said Tucca cautiously.
'Went she alone?'
'Well--no!'
'With whom, then?'
'Her slave was with her.'
'And no one besides?'
'Well----' drawled Tucca.
'Come, be speedy!' cried the knight impatiently.
'There were others, most illustrious, for certain, but----'
'Do you dare to play at words with me? What others?'
'Slaves!'
'What slaves, and whose? Must I beat it out of you, wretch?' angrily quothAfer, taking a step toward the reluctant husbandman.
'Caesar's, most worshipful!' cried Tucca, hastily retreating acorresponding step; and then he continued, in a whining tone, to bemoanthe hard fate which delivered him and his house over to the anxieties andresponsibilities attached to the visits of nobilities and highnesses.
As he whimpered and hoped he had not said as much as might bring him harm,Afer swept past him, with a contemptuous exclamation, and left the house.He pursued his way through the town, toward the villa of Mercury, whichcrowned the hill overlooking the north Marina. Climbing the ascent, heentered the gates of the palace, and sought the Prefect in an innerapartment, with the freedom of a favoured confidant and friend. Sejanuswas alone and busily engaged in writing. He nodded to a couch, and benthis attention again to his writing. His stylus continued to move busilyalong for about a quarter of an hour, during which period Afer's attentionwas divided between his own thoughts and schemes and the absorbedcountenance of the minister bent over his work. Then the latter laid downhis stylus, and, reading over his epistle, closed it up and sealed it.Then he put it in the bosom of his dress, and left his seat.
'Well,' said he, stretching himself and yawning, 'now I am at liberty; solet me hear of your business. You are late, so I presume you have alreadyfollowed up last night's folly. In what sort of a humour did you find thefair Plautia this morning after her repulse, and in what sort of humourdid your tact and eloquence leave her?'
'I have not seen her,' replied Afer.
'Wherefore! You are remiss, Afer,' rejoined Sejanus, with a slight wrinkleof his brows; 'it was somewhat important, as I hinted. You ought to havegone at your earliest.'
'I have been. I have come straight away.'
'How then--is she sick and bedfast?'
'No; the matter has been taken out of our hands, and all trouble spared tous--she has already taken flight.'
'Ah!' said the Prefect, with great gusto, 'that's well--nothing could bebetter! Sensible woman!'
'But she has not gone alone, I find.'
'How then--has my Centurion changed his mind?' demanded the commander, witha tone of disgust.
'No; but some of Caesar's household visited her and escorted her hencebefore my arrival.'
'Phew?' whistled the Prefect softly. He rubbed his chin slowly, and theygazed at each other for a few moments in silence.
'Ha!' ejaculated Sejanus, regarding the bare wall opposite and stillsmoothing the lower part of his face, 'this is taking the load off ourbacks most effectually.'
''Tis as good a way as any for you, Prefect, though not perhaps for thesweet lady herself. She is in excellent keeping.'
'Well, let us hope so--it must stand as our Imperial master has arrangedit, at all events. She has only her headstrong folly to thank for herfate. She cannot say but that she had ample warning.'
'The fact, nevertheless, remains, that with her subtlety and good looks,she may worm her way into the Imperial favour, and be pleased to makemischief if she be so inclined.'
'Hm!' said Sejanus, 'we will see. Come! Tiberius has arrived at the villaabove and I go to him at once. If he should open his lips to tell usanything of this it would be as well to be truly astonished to hear it.'
'You would not be very prudent to play a part, Prefect,' said Afer drily.'If Tiberius has had such prompt information of the lady's presence,depend upon it there will be not much more that you or I could impart tohim. The best course will be a candid one, without any disguise.'
'Disguise, Afer!' ejaculated the Prefect scornfully; 'am I a truantschoolboy fearing the rod of the pedagogue? What atom of concern is it tome? Had she been mine, and of interest to me, I would have demandedrestitution from Caesar himself, and he would not dare to retain her. Iwill tell him all, or little, or nothing at all, just as I am inclined.Go, bid the people prepare and we will start.'
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